


Everlasting

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Inheritance, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan and Roald and their ancient inheritance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everlasting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Holiday Bingo at Goldenlake in December 2010. Bingo card: father and son + Jonathan + ball + regret +gifts.

_Do you ever hate me?_

It was something Jonathan always wondered but never voiced aloud; kings simply did not express doubt like that because it was a sign of weakness, even when it was just a father speaking to his son. There was always that barrier of royalty. For some reason it weighed heavily on him at this moment, standing with his son against the wall and watching the dancers. For once, they were not fawned over, solicited, bombarded with cleverly veiled insults. This was a private affair, at Thayet’s insistence, and he found that he quite enjoyed this casual Midwinter ball with family and friends.

She herself was clearly delighting in this, if her merry eyes and flushed cheeks were any indication. She never looked more beautiful to him, elegant in her middle age, hair still rich and smile still true, as she was dragged around the ballroom by an obliviously clumsy Gary.

Lord Wyldon was ever precise in his steps with Shinko, who looked relaxed and even amused as her giant belly continuously bounced against him; her second pregnancy was much more prominent than her first had been. _Twins, possibly_ , Baird had muttered out of the corner of his mouth one night at a banquet, _or one really fat baby_. It had not been easy to think up an excuse for his guests as to why he had spit wine all over the tablecloth.

Jonathan felt Kalasin’s loss clearly, as he always did at Midwinter—she had always been his jewel, beautiful and precious, but now she shined at the Carthaki court. Watching Vania made up for it just a little. He didn’t think she had stopped laughing this whole time, and now she was dancing with little Rikash in her arms. 

Jasson and Lianne were, as always, holed up in a corner together, debating politics or economy or whatever intellectual topics they had latched on to now, and he had long since lost sight of Liam, who changed partners more than he could count. He would not be surprised if he had already left with one of the prettier ones. _Like father, like son_ , Jonathan reflected, not altogether happily.

And here beside him was Roald, his pride and joy. He loomed large and handsome in his sapphire blue tunic that matched Jonathan’s. At the moment, he had eyes only for Liano as she danced on Raoul’s feet. _Remember this_ , he thought wistfully. _One day it’ll all be gone_.

“I did my best,” Jonathan said heavily.

Roald glanced at him quizzically. “Father?”

“Nothing. Here, I have something for you.”

Years of permanence made it difficult to remove—Jonathan was beginning to think his fingers had gotten fat when the ring finally popped off. The band was pure gold, heavy but not cumbersome, and set with a large sapphire. It was no more impressive than other jewels—indeed, the royal treasury had bigger and brighter—but this was not the ring of a king or royal member or anything official: this was his family ring.

“This ring,” Jonathan said, “was passed to me from my father, who got it from his father, all the way back to the first lord of Conte. It was said he got it from the last of the Old Ones who still walked the earth searching for a man worthy of his treasure. I don’t know if it’s actually true, but I believe it is. And now I want you to have it.”

“Father, no,” Roald protested. “I can’t accept this. You have plenty of years to wear it still.”

“Maybe. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing is ever certain. My father gave this to me three days before his accident, and it’s something I’ve never forgotten. Take it. Think of it as one more responsibility for you and one less for me.”

Roald accepted it with an expression of such reverence that Jonathan loved him a little bit more, and he didn’t think that was possible. Only he would understand the significance of such an heirloom, how important it was, how much it meant to the men who came before them and the men who would come after them. _And women_ , Jonathan corrected himself. _Liano will surely be but one of many queens_.

He watched Roald slide it on his finger. It was a perfect fit.


End file.
